Side Effects
by DILestrudel
Summary: A prompt from a friend. "Hoody attacking Tim." So here we are. I do not own Marble Hornets, obviously.
1. one

Jay sat in a hotel armchair, stuffed with impossibly hard foam, hunched over his laptop. Tim had left hours ago, on his way to pick up a prescription from the pharmacy. Despite Jays calls, Tim had not responded. The trip should have taken him a half of an hour at most, even if problems had arisen. He had left at 1, and it was now 4:30. Jay was getting worried. They had no idea where Alex was, and it wasn't as if Alex was their biggest threat. Any number of things could have happened to Tim, each scenario getting progressively worse the more Jay considered them. Tim had taken the car as well, making looking for him an almost impossible task at this point. Jay stood up, sitting the laptop on the unmade bed and checking his cell phone for the millionth time. Total radio silence from Tim. Walking to the window, Jay pulled the heavy, tacky hotel room curtains back and peered out the window. Their parking spot was still empty. Carefully, Jay looked left and right, as far as his field of vision would allow. No one was within view. Jay sighed heavily and resumed his seat in the armchair, taking back his laptop and mousing over his screen to wake it back up. Doing cursory research, Jay considered one of his scenarios as to why Tim wouldn't be back. Jay considered the side effects of the seizure medication Tim had been so reliant on lately. It was Topamax, right? Jay typed this into Google, his laptops motor whirring with the effort of running the search. Clicking the first link, Jay's eyes scanned the page, finding the bulleted Side Effects section of the article.

sudden vision loss, pain around or behind your eyes;

dry mouth, increased thirst, drowsiness, decreased sweating, increased body temperature, and hot, dry skin,

confusion, slowed thinking, memory problems, trouble concentrating, problems with speech or balance;

vomiting, loss of appetite, tired feeling, irregular heartbeats, feeling like you might pass out; or

severe pain in your side or lower back, painful or difficult urination.

Those were the serious side effects, according to the website. Jay considered the symptoms, matching them to his friends behavior. He had been getting headaches lately, and had been drinking a lot of water. His diet had, more or less, become the pills. The memory problems bit particularly interested Jay. Could that be a logical explanation for Tims behavior? Jay quickly shook his head in an attempt to rid himself of that thought. Logic no longer applied to his current situation. Was it a medical problem detaining Tim? Had he become so sick between the hotel and the pharmacy that he couldn't drive back? If so, would he be at the local hospital? Jay once again sat the laptop on the bed and began to open up drawers in the room, searching for the phonebook. It was in the drawer underneath the microwave. After a few moments, Jay found the phone number for the local hospital and dialed it on his cell phone.

"Hello? Northport Medical Hospital. How may I help you?"

"Yes, hello. Has anyone by the name Tim been brought in since 1 o'clock?"

"Hold on one moment, sir. Let me check the computers."

Jay waited, listening to the soft clicking of the receptionists keyboard.

"No, sir, no one going by that name has been checked in here today."

"Thank you."

Jay ended the call, unsure if he should feel relieved or even more anxious. On one hand, Tim hadn't OD'd on pills and been brought into the hospital. On the other hand, maybe they just hadn't found him yet.

It was always a possibility that Tim had just left. Jay glanced at Tim's duffel bag, which sat in the corner next to his own. Both of them were living out of those bags. But Tim could leave those few items behind, if he were desperate enough. He had money and a car. But that just didn't seem like Tim, to Jay anyway. He wouldn't just leave him, would he? Maybe Tim didn't leave him. Maybe Masky did. That wasn't an illogical assumption, was it? Tim had been acting a bit off lately. While Masky hadn't appeared in the recents months, it was always a possibility that he might. Jay walked to the window again, peeking out the curtains and once again finding the parking lot empty of threats. Jay hoped Tim would return soon. The cheap digital alarm clock on the nightstand between the two beds told Jay that it was 5:47. Jays annoyance was quickly being replaced with a gnawing fear that something was wrong. Badly wrong.

After several minutes of pacing, Jay snatched the room key from dresser top and left the room, tightly gripping his phone in one hand. After locating the vending machine, Jay purchased a bag of Sunchips and a soda and returned to his room, walking quickly. The hall was silent and poorly lit, and Jay didn't like being alone in such places, practically begging for something horrific to happen. Jay unlocked the door, cringing at the seemingly deafening beep that it made to signify that it could be opened, and quickly shut it behind him. He glanced at his phone, just to confirm what he already knew. No texts or calls from anyone, least of all Tim. Sighing, Jay sat on his bed and retrieved his laptop, opening it and laying it in his lap. As he waited for the machine to install an apparently necessary update, Jay opened the chips and tried very hard to pretend that they were an adequate dinner. They were on his budget, and without the car... Jay drummed his fingers on the mouse pad until he was allowed to connect with the internet. He was already logged in to the hotels wifi after his previous search. Out of sheer habit, Jay went to Youtube first, typing the site in without even thinking about it. Jay lazily scrolled down the page, seeing nothing of interest to watch. He moused back up to the top, clicking on his own channel.

There was a new entry uploaded.

He hadn't uploaded it.

The video was marked as being uploaded 3 hours ago. Around 3 o'clock. The videos title was binary, similar to previous entries uploaded by totheark, who had certainly uploaded this as well. The description simply read "believe".

Jay hesitated, hoovering his mouse over the video. The thumbnail offered no help as to what the video was about. It appeared to be a shot of the ground, some sort of abandoned buildings floor. Concrete, with various scattered debris.

Reluctantly, Jay started the video.


	2. the uploaded entry

The video spent a minute buffering, which was sixty seconds too long for Jay, who anxiously tapped on his legs. The video stopped buffering, opening with fifteen seconds of black screen with some sort of odd humming in the background. Jay cranked the volume on his computer to full, hoping to catch something in the sound feed. Jay jumped at the loud beep that went along with the switch in frames. Words came up, too fast for Jay to read. He made a mental note to go back and look at them later. There was more static, this time over an image of moving forest floor. The camera was moving. The static cleared away, replaced by the loud crunch of leaves. An item came into view, and Jay recognized it instantly.

Tim's mask.

It was laying on the ground among the leaves, like it had been left there.

Jay could hear the person behind the camera breathing now. Words appeared in the bottom of the screen as a gloved hand reached out and picked up the mask.

'_He lies_' flashed briefly onscreen

The gloves led back to the sleeve of a yellow hoody.

The video cut to a black screen once again, the odd humming filling the videos audio feed. Jay moused over the video, checking how much time was left on it. There was still about five minutes to go, and this worried Jay. Most of the videos that totheark uploaded were short. Almost all of them, anyway. Jay thought back to the video that totheark had uploaded, Entry 61. If totheark was the person in the yellow hoody, they had obviously already come into contact with Tim. Stalked him, hurt him. Jay bit his lip nervously, pausing the video before it had the chance to change from its black feed. Tim had been gone all day, and now this video had been uploaded. Was this video from today? What was Tims mask doing, abandoned on the ground? Jay could think of several possibilities as to why it would be, and none of them ended well. Where was Tim? Jay knew that he had to finish the video, but dreaded resuming it. He had a bad feeling about what it contained.

Five more seconds of black followed until it was replaced with another shot of the floor of some building, littered with broken glass and paint chips. The audio briefly picked up the sound of it crunching beneath the hooded man's feet before cutting out again, the odd hum of silence contrasting the obvious noise happening on camera. The hooded man approached a body, laying among the glass on the floor. Jay felt the panic before he really registered what he was seeing in his mind. Even though only legs and feet were visible in the frame, Jay recognized them as Tim's. The video became choppy, distorted coughing and voices breaking the silence. Tim appeared to get up now, and the hooded man dropped the camera. He and Tim struggled, but it was very apparent to Jay that Tim was physically outmatched. He looked weak, and it showed. The pair fell to the ground, the full weight of the hooded man falling forward on Tim. Jay winced as his head slammed into the concrete floor. The hooded man, back to the camera now, looked up at something off camera, a sudden noise perhaps. Tim used the distraction to his advantage, closing the space between them with his hand and yanking off the other man's mask. A horrible moment of static filled the screen before fading out, the audio distorted and blaring. But Jay did not make a move to turn the volume down, instead frozen in horror at the video now. The hooded man's body blocked the camera's view of Tim's face now, but it was obvious from his relentless movements that he was beating Tim. This dragged on for minutes, hours, ages, or if Jay had been able to check the time in the corner of the video, 15 seconds. Finally, the hooded man staggered off of Tim, snatching his mask that was apparently still clutched in Tim's hand, and stood up. He paused, putting it on before turning to face the camera again, walking towards it. The audio had returned now, silent apart from the hooded man's movements. Behind him, Tim moved turned his head to the side, moving the fingers of his right hand weakly before he appeared to either stop moving or lose consciousness altogether. The camera was picked up again and faced the ground as the hooded man left the building, crunching through the leaves to where Tim's mask had been. The gloved hand and yellow sleeve once again appeared on frame to pick up the mask, this time carrying it back to the abandoned building. The hooded man tossed the mask as Tim's unconscious form, and it landed with a plastic-like click at his side. Jay noted the blood on Tim's face just before the video cut to black. Nearly over now. Shaky, white words appeared onscreen

_'Don't hide'_

_'Watching'_

Then the video was over and Jay practically threw himself off the bed. He had a vague idea of where Tim might be. Abandoned buildings with concrete floors narrowed it down, and he had been to nearly all the abandoned buildings in the area. Something about the one Tim was in felt familiar, and Jay had a vague idea of it's location. He searched for car keys for a brief moment before realizing that Tim had taken the car. Jay had enough sense to grab a flashlight before leaving the hotel room and jogging downstairs to the parking lot. He was determined to get to Tim as he began the four mile walk to the areas surrounding Rosswood. He couldn't leave him out there alone all night.


	3. What Jay Found

Jay's feet complained as he approached Rosswood, sore and probably blistered from his lengthy walk. He had been forced to turn the flashlight on forty minutes ago, when it had become too dark to walk safely between the patches of light that the streetlights provided. Rosswood loomed before him, the woods a solid black mass in the dark distance. Jay picked up his pace, ignoring the pain in his feet as he half jogged to the parking lot. There was a single car there, and Jay knew before he even got close that it was Tim's. The car was locked, as he had expected. That meant Tim was still here, in the woods of Rosswood. Jay turned the camera in his hands on, filming the path illuminated by the flashlight ahead of him as he walked towards the tree line. He had no idea where Tim was, and Rosswood covered a lot of ground. Jay decided to try for somewhere that was semi navigable for him in the dark where Tim could be; the tunnel.

Jay was almost certain he was hallucinating sounds in the dark woods. Over the sounds of his own movements, he could hear others, that stopped as soon as his did. While his eyes had become accustomed to the dark, that didn't mean he could see. And what little he could see seemed vague and intimidating in the dark. What would have been a hanging, dead branch in the daytime seemed like a monstrous, moving shape in the gloom. Jay had more than enough reason to be on edge, given what had happened here before. The darkness did not help. There was no sign of Tim that Jay saw as he approached the tunnel, but he was willing to hope that Tim was nearby. Jay suspected that he would be leaving a blood trail. That thought made him walk a little faster. Tim was hurt, and apparently alone in Rosswood. Totally vulnerable to attack from anything. The tunnel was in sight now, it's dark opening stretching before Jay, the dank smell of moisture carrying out on the sluggish breeze. Jay shone his flashlight into the tunnel, seeing nothing human shaped in the light he cast. Quietly, Jay started down the tunnel, carefully watching for movement out of the corner of his eye. The dirt floor of the tunnel was marred with small puddles, drying from the lack of additional rain. Jay was nearly at the end of the tunnel when something caught his eye, making him squat down to examine it more closely. Droplets of blood, much darker than water, stained the dirt. Jay swallowed, looking up at the tunnel opening, before setting the camera down beside him and extending a hand slowly to dab at the blood. The tips of his fingers came away slightly bloody, indicating what Jay had suspected. This blood was fresh and he had a sneaking suspicion of whose it was. Picking the camera up, Jay stood back up, turning around. It took him a moment to register the silhouette of a person, outlined against the tunnels opening, before he trained light on it. Masky, Tim, stood, frozen in the light, poised to run. Jay himself was frozen, unsure of what to do. He couldn't help but notice the smear of blood on one of the masks white cheeks...

Jay was running before he realized it, and he didn't need to look back to know he was being pursued. Popping out of the tunnels entrance, Jay made an instinctual left, avoiding the rocks that he knew where there. He did not dare try to make it up them in the dark. Instead, he ran up the steep hill, acutely aware of the footsteps behind him, gaining by the sounds of it. Jay considered dropping the camera briefly, maybe to slow Masky down. But before he could make the decision, there was a something before him, caught in the jarring light of the flashlight in his left hand. Jay stumbled to avoid the thorn bush, slowing down far too much. Masky seized the opportunity, lunging forward and tackling him to the ground. Jay felt the air rush out of his lungs as he hit the ground, his cheek scraping painfully along the mix of thorns and fallen leaves as the weight of the other man settled on his back. Jay was aware of the flashlight and camera, both having flown from his hands when he hit the ground. The flashlight illuminated the trunk of a tree several feet away, and the camera, if it still worked, filmed the ground. Masky adjusted his weight, digging a knee into the small of Jay's back. Jay winced, but was still too stunned to fight back. Instead, he wriggled feebly, trying to move his left arm out from underneath his chest to no avail. Masky pressed a gloved hand against the side of Jay's head, pinning it to the ground. Jay began to struggle, digging his shoes into the dirt, trying to find purchase that would allow himself to push upwards and unbalance the other man. He stilled when the blade of a small knife pressed itself against the side of his neck, just below his ear, a silent threat to keep still.

Breathing heavily now, Jay waited, acutely aware of whose knife this was. It was Tim's pocket knife and this was Tim. The Tim who had said he would be right back as he closed the door. The Tim who had reassured him he would be careful when Jay had told him to do so. That was just hours ago, and here he was, pressing a knife against his throat and distinctly not himself. The knife pressed harder still, and Jay knew it was drawing blood now. The pain was sharp and dull all at once. "TIM!" Jay screamed suddenly, trying not to move as he did so. Masky pressed down with more of his body weight on Jay's head, forcing him to close his left eye to protect it from the debris around him. "TIM!" Jay screamed hoarsely again, desperate to get through to his friend. He was in there, somewhere. The knife pressed further still against his neck, and Jay made what would have been an embarrassing whimpering noise, had he cared at that moment. He could feel Masky jerk upwards slightly, apparently spooked by something that Jay could not see. Moments that seemed like minutes passed before the knife and weight lifted away, but Jay made no move to stand. Instead he listened as Masky sprinted off into the dark forest, away from Jay and whatever had frightened him away. What had done that was the question. Jay strained to listen for other noises above the sound of his own erratic breathing and the rush of blood in his ears. Somewhere, there were footsteps, but they made no move towards Jay, and for that, he was grateful.


	4. follow the blood

Jay laid like that for quite some time, his breath gradually returning to a regular rate as he inched his fingers through the dried leaves and dark soil, grit wedging itself impossibly far under his nails as he did so. Finally, with a shuddering intake of air, Jay hauled himself into a sitting position slowly, aware now of the throbbing pain in his neck. Touching the knife wound gently, Jay felt the hardened blood, coagulated slightly to a dark, tarish paste that now mixed with the fresher blood on his hand when he drew it away. Deciding that he could take care of that problem later, Jay dragged himself to a standing position, staggering forward to collect the scattered flashlight and camera. Examining the camera, Jay was shocked to find that it was still running. Perhaps he hadn't been laying there as long as he had thought. Wiping the lense off with the corner of his shirt, Jay hoped that the camera would continue to record for a little while longer. He also hoped it had recorded something useful. There was chance of it, anyway. The lense had had, perhaps, a partial view of something other than the ground. Jay decided to check later.

Setting off at a steady pace in the same direction Masky had run, Jay decided to follow the trail of blood that he had left. It was his best bet at finding Tim, but Jay couldn't ignore the feeling of uneasiness completely. He convinced himself that following the being that had just held a knife to his throat was the best game plan that he had and trudged on, flashlight sweeping the ground, finding the scattered smear of blood on leaves and trees. But even these clues were becoming more sporadic, and eventually they ran out. Jay paused, turning in a circle. He had no idea where he was, and suddenly regretted following Masky. It was Masky, after all, not Tim. Of course the blood trail would run out. A person didn't bleed forever from wounds like that. Now he was alone, lost in the middle of a dark forest with an unknown number of entities lurking nearby. Jay felt so physically tired in that moment that he nearly fell over, instead catching himself on a nearby tree trunk and sinking to the ground in defeat. Clicking the flashlight off, Jay drew his knees to his chest and rested his forehead on them, listening to the muffled sounds that carried through to the isolated part of the woods that he was in. The movement of roosting birds above, and the shuffle of small creatures, but nothing that would be considered a threat. Not that Jay could sense anyway. He considered turning the camera off, but instead sat it beside him, letting it run itself out of tape. Jay sat like that for hours, but it could have been minutes, because when he woke up, it didn't seem like he had been asleep at all.

The first tendrils of light where poking through between the tree trunks, and birds were beginning to stir and call to one another. Jay moved his head stiffly, regretting immediately falling asleep in such an awkward position. After several stretches, he felt fit enough to stand. Jay touched his neck gingerly, wincing at its tenderness. It had scabbed over now, and Jay briefly picked at the flaky blood residue on his collarbone before bending down to collect the camera and flashlight. The camera had indeed run out of tape sometime in the night, and the flashlight was useless to Jay now. Frowning down at the hindrances in hands, Jay started forward, just as lost in the early morning light as he was in the dark. He had never been to this part of Rosswood before, but he was sure that if he walked straight he would come out of it. He had a feeling he would, anyway. Jay attempted some sort of stealth, made nearly impossible by the newly fallen leaves, which crunched loudly beneath his feet despite his efforts. But somewhere to his left, there was a noise that Jay wasn't so certain that he had made. Lurching to a stop, Jay waited for it to continue. It did not. But Jay was not so convinced that he had made that noise, that particular movement among the leaves that he had most definitely heard. So, once again, Jay found himself going against better judgement and walking in the direction he had heard the noise.

Scanning the area, Jay inched forward, making slightly less noise than before in an effort to be stealthy. Yards away, visible from behind a tree trunk, was a knee. A knee attached to a top of a leg and a sneaker. But Jay recognized those sneakers, he had put his own beside them for months now. "Tim?" Jay whispered, his voice carrying loudly through the quiet morning anyway. The figure made no move to respond or show recognition that Jay had spoke at all. Jay moved forward, not going as carefully now. This had to be Tim… Masky wouldn't have been so placid at his approach. Jay made his way to the other side of the tree, Tim coming into full view now. He was sitting, his back against the tree, and his head lolling to one side. Jay could quite plainly see that he was unconscious, and upon closer inspection, breathing. Kneeling down beside him, Jay began to repeat "Tim" in an attempt to wake him up. Glancing down, he noticed that Tim was gripping his mask tightly in his right hand. The bloody smears and fingerprints made Jay's stomach turn, but not as much as the sight of Tim's face did. His left eye was puffy and swollen, a shiny dark purple. A long gash on his forehead accounted for the lost blood, and Jay had to reassure himself several times that it wasn't deep enough to be serious. He remembered that once, when he was 10 or 11, he had fallen off his bike and cut his forehead open. The amount of blood had been terrifying. But of course head wounds bled more. There was a halloweenish trickle of blood, dried now, down the side of Tim's temple, apparently having bled more after he had sat down. By the look of his tan jacket sleeve, he had repeatedly wiped blood from his face. Tim's nose, Jay noticed, was also bloody, crusting around his nostrils and ending in a dried trickle just above his top lip. It too had been split, although not too severely. Gingerly, Jay placed a hand on Tim's shoulder, shaking it gently. After a few moments, Tim's brows furrowed, and slowly, he stirred.

The panic in Tim's eyes when they met Jay's startled him. "It's okay, Tim. It's okay!" Jay said, trying to sound reassuring as he squeezed his shoulder, trying to prevent him from moving too much. Recognition passed over Tim's face like a wave and he relaxed in Jay's hand, only to tense up once more upon noticing his surroundings. "Wh-what?" he sputtered, his swollen lip hindering his speech slightly. "It's alright. It's okay. We're in Rosswood." Jay said, trying to get Tim to focus on him again. He did, eventually, looking more confused than ever. But quite suddenly, something clicked in place in his mind. "Oh." Tim mouthed, the word itself escaping on his breath. His fingers curled slightly around the mask at his side. "What?" Jay questioned. Tim shook his head, "Nothing. I just...I get why I'm here now…" he said vaguely, but Jay understood. It was obvious what had happened, waking up with an all too familiar mask, covered in your own blood. "How do you feel?" Jay asked quietly, glancing at the gash on Tim's forehead. "Like I got hit in the face with a baseball bat." Tim groaned, before looking Jay in the eye. "I wasn't, was I?" he added quickly, making Jay smile faintly, "No. Not this time..." There was an uncomfortable pause. Jay shifted in the leaves. "So what did happen?" Tim asked tentatively. "There's….uh….there's video." Jay said slowly, avoiding Tim's eyes. He wasn't sure why he couldn't meet them. "Oh?" Tim responded quietly, unsure of how to answer. Jay wasn't sure what answer he had expected. "We can watch it when we get back to the hotel room." he said finally, standing up and offering his hand to Tim. Tim took it and, wincing, stood up stiffly. He still clutched the mask in his hand. "Do you recognize where we are?" Jay asked, glancing at Tim, hoping that his tone didn't betray the fact that he really did not at all. "Sort of…." Tim started, "I think I could get us out." Jay nodded, falling in just behind Tim, watching his efforts empathetically. "My head is killing me…" Tim said after a few moments, although he showed no signs of stopping, instead moving forward with deliberate steps. "There should be aspirin in the glove box of the car…." Jay said, "And if there isn't, I will personally stop and get you some."


	5. answers and questions

It took Tim and Jay fifteen minutes to maneuver their way out of Rosswood and back to the car, still parked where Tim had left it. Jay considered it lucky that Tim had known where they were, shuddering to think how long it would have taken him to find his own way out. Tim, thankfully, still had the keys in his pocket. Jay took them from him, climbing into the drivers seat as Tim sank into the passengers side next to him. Immediately, he began searching through the glove box, pulling out a rattling bottle of Ibuprofen. Swallowing two dry, Tim squeezed his eyes shut and pressed back into the seat. Jay started the car, pulling out of the parking lot and onto the main road. The turn signal clicked obnoxiously loud in the silence that filled the car.

Jay pulled into a parking spot some distance away from their actual hotel room, a tactic they had been using for months now. Tim stirred next to him, his brow furrowed in discomfort. The mask was still in his lap, but neither of them mentioned it. "Come on…" Jay prompted, getting out of the car. Tim followed a few moments later, staggering out and shutting the car door behind him. Jay took the lead now, guiding Tim up the stairs and picking out their room number among the rows of identical doors. Exhaustion hit Jay like a ton of bricks as soon as he entered the room, and he managed to close the door behind him and make it to the edge of his bed before his legs buckled beneath him. Tim mimicked the action, looking exhausted. Jay couldn't bring himself to suggest they clean themselves up first. He couldn't bare to move. Kicking his shoes off, Jay winced, feeling the blisters that had formed on his feet from all of the walking. He really did need new shoes…. Tim, meanwhile, had relocated to a more comfortable position on his bed, still on top of the covers. He had not removed his shoes. The mask was still clutched firmly in his hand. That was the last thing Jay noticed before he fell asleep, legs dangling off the end of the bed, flashlight and camera beside him.

Tim was already awake when Jay finally stirred, sitting the edge of his bed and rubbing sleep gingerly from his right eye. He wasn't even attempting anything with his left. "Hey….what time is it?" Jay asked sleepily, sitting up. His back hurt, and he quietly cursed himself for falling asleep in such an odd position. "It's...just after 6 o'clock." Tim said slowly, peering at the digital clock on the nightstand. Jay couldn't remember the last time he had slept this long. He still felt tired, at any rate. "Jay? Where did you get that cut?" Tim asked, looking concerned. Jay had forgotten about it entirely, and absent-mindedly touched it. "It's….uh…." Jay hesitated. How could he tell Tim that he had attacked him with a knife? That wasn't something that just came out easily. "Was it me?" Tim asked unexpectedly, his voice so small that Jay almost didn't recognize it as belonging to him. Jay was silent, unable to meet Tim's eye. "You should go get cleaned up." he said finally, shifting uncomfortably on the bed. Tim stood without a word and gathered clothes, shutting himself in the bathroom and clicking the lock. Jay sighed, standing and stretching. This was much more uncomfortable than he had anticipated. From the bathroom, the sounds of the shower being turned on could be heard. Collecting the flashlight and camera from his bed, he sat the flashlight on the dresser. After retrieving the cameras charger, Jay connected the two and sat the camera next to the flashlight, impatiently waiting for it to allow him to view the recorded tape. Jay was anxious to see what it had recorded, if it had recorded anything of use or not. Fidgeting around the room, Jay's eyes drifted to the empty mask, laying face down on Tim's bed. Smeared with Tim's blood and dirt, Jay recalled how tightly Tim had been gripping it all day. Jay also recalled them emphasis that the hooded figure had put on the mask in the video he had uploaded. He wasn't sure how Tim would react to the footage. Jay collected the laptop from the armchair, turning it on. The engine whirred to life and Jay waited, drumming the pads of his fingers on the edge of the machine until he was allowed to enter the laptops passcode. As his personal setting loaded, Jay found himself running his index finger along the cut on his neck. It had thoroughly scabbed over now. The thought of cleaning the wound with hydrogen peroxide crossed Jay's mind, the fear of infection a very real one. But the thought was dropped when Jay remembered where they were and what supplies were available to him. The hotel wifi was slow, and Jay had just typed in the 't' in youtube when the bathroom door opened. Jay hadn't even heard the shower turn off. Neither of the men said anything for a few moments, Tim busying himself with his bag as Jay watched him, unsure of what to do. Finally, Jay dragged himself off the bed, leaving the youtube url half typed. Passing by Tim, Jay collected his own clothes and shut the bathroom door, intending to take a shower himself. Jay stripped, taking a few moments to look at himself in the bathroom mirror. He was dirty, blistered, and bloody. The dark circles under his eyes made him look as if he had been punched in the face. Although, Jay thought, Tim was really the only one of them who could claim that excuse. Jay had smeared his own blood in surprising places. He was unsure of how it had ended up in his hair, but it was there, and that was what prompted Jay to start the water. Taking his time, Jay scrubbed himself down with the hotel soap, watching the brownish mixture of dirt and blood swirl down the drain. Unable to stand the harsh smell and feel of hotel soap any longer, Jay turned off the water, drying himself off and dressing with unnecessary urgency.

As he stepped out of the bathroom, Jay was unsurprised to find Tim sitting crossed legged on his bed, the laptop in front of him. Fingers steepled under his chin, Tim was staring at the screen, his expression blank. There was no video playing now, rather a display of suggested videos. "Tim?" Jay prompted. Tim did not move. Jay stepped closer to him, stopping just before his knees bumped against the edge of the bed. "Tim?" he repeated, a little louder. Tim started, glancing at Jay, his fingers un-steepling and falling to his lap. "So did you watch the entry?" Jay asked quietly, watching Tim's reaction carefully. Aside from the slight frown that appeared on his face, Tim's expression remained the same as he nodded his head. "Do you remember any of it…?" Jay asked, perching himself on the edge of the bed. He didn't want to encroach on Tim, lest that upset him. He looked like he was in a fragile state. Tim's frown deepened as he appeared to be searching for the right memories. "I..I remember getting in the car and pulling out…. I took a right. But after that, it's all blank. All of it, until I woke up in Rosswood and you were there." Tim spoke slowly, his tone almost angry. Jay tried his best to give a sympathetic nod. "It's fine… It's not like it's your fault that you don't remember." Jay said, hoping his sounded sincere. He felt quite disappointed that Tim did not remember the attack. Because Tim had seen the hooded man without his mask…. The room was filled with an uncomfortable silence, with Tim frowning down at his hands and Jay perched awkwardly on the edge of the bed, watching him, hoping he would speak. After several minutes, Jay broke the silence. "Do you know why you were attacked? Or why he seems so obsessed with calling you a liar?" he asked. "I've been wondering...and I have some theories…" Tim began hesitantly, he paused, waiting for Jay to speak. Jay did not, and after a pause, Tim continued. "Well…. I'm going to assume I turned into...him…somewhere between here and the pharmacy, because I never made it to the pharmacy. But something is different about this time. The mask….my mask.. The person in the hoody found it outside the shack I was in. It looked like I tried to get rid of it, if you ask me." Tim paused, glancing at Jay, who was considering his words. "So he was upset that you had tried to get rid of the mask, then?" Jay asked, surprised by Tim's theory. He himself had been tossing around the theory that the hooded man had called Tim a liar because he found the mask and associated it with Tim's proxy form. "I guess so.. I've never done anything like that before. I've never tried to get rid of the mask." Tim said, before adding quickly, "Not that I don't want to get rid of it! It's just...I've always had a bad feeling about what would happen if I did. It's hard to explain. But apparently this is what happens when I try." Jay nodded, taking in what Tim had told him. "But he attacked you….because you took off his mask…" he said softly. "He wanted to keep his identity as secret, I guess." Tim said, gesturing slightly to his own face, "And apparently he's watching and I shouldn't hide, whatever that's supposed to mean." Jay thought for a moment, "Hide behind your mask or from the mask or… or hide in general?" Tim merely shrugged. Another silence filled the room, less awkward than before, both men engrossed in their own thoughts. Tim broke it this time, "Didn't you have the camera with you in Rosswood..?" he asked, and Jay stood immediately. "Did it record anything?" Tim asked as Jay walked over to the dresser. The camera had almost a full charge, so Jay unplugged it. "Yeah, I did. But I'm not sure what, exactly." he said as he crossed the room and sat back down on the bed, no longer perching on the edge. "Well then, lets find out." Tim said, moving closer to get a view of the camera as Jay turned it on.


	6. plans

Jay could feel Tims breath on the back of his neck as he peered over his shoulder, trying to get a good view of the camera's small viewscreen. Jay repositioned it to better suit both of them and pressed the play button. The screen came to life, showing shaky footage of the ground, illuminated by the flashlight Jay had been holding. Jay wasn't certain when he had turned the camera on. He didn't recall doing it, but he must have. Obviously. The camera darted around, filming Jay's progress through the woods. After a few minutes of this, the camera pointed ahead, showing the tunnel, looming darkly before it. Jay stopped himself from glancing at Tim. Jay vividly recalled what happened next, but Tim likely had no idea. Refocusing on the screen, Jay watched as the camera was sat down in the dirt, focusing in on the blood inches from its lens. His own pale hand appeared from offscreen, dabbing at the blood. The camera was picked up, and focused momentarily on the ground before it moved erratically, putting Masky into frame and stilling. Behind him, Jay could feel Tim tense up, but he said nothing. On screen, Masky tilted his head to the left, catlike. Definitely not Tim. Then the camera was full of static and glimpses of ground and rock between the rolling distortion. Jay willed himself to run faster, all too aware of the fact that he hadn't. The camera lurched and seemed to hit the ground, the audio shrieking with static and distortion. It was a miracle that it even worked after such a hard hit. The camera's lense barely peeked out from among the dead leaves, a small portion of the lense picking up the woods beyond. The flashlight, miraculously illuminated them. "Is this where you got….?" Tim trailed off. Jay nodded, unable to look at him. "Masky did it, not you. Don't worry about it." Jay said, staring at the small portion of the screen that did not feature dead leaves like it would provide answers. "Still, I'm so-" Tim stopped mid-sentence, the videos audio picking up Jay's scream of "TIM!" loud and clear. Neither of the men breathed, focusing on the painfully clear audio. _Why had the camera picked this up so well, this of all things?_ Jay wondered. "TIM!" Jay heard himself scream, taken aback by how terrified he had sounded. He didn't know his voice could even do that… Whimpering came through, and only Jay knew why. He was about to turn to Tim, say something to lighten the mood, when movement on the camera caught his attention. A person had appeared, poking out from behind one of the illuminated trees, a certain hooded figure. He made no movement towards the camera or struggling pair behind it. But Jay recalled Masky being startled by something that he couldn't see at the time. This must have been what had caused him to leave Jay. After a few moments, the sounds of running could be heard from behind the cameras field of vision. The hooded man did not move for several moments, finally turning and disappearing off screen.

The footage stayed the same, showing only the still woods, partially illuminated by the light of the flashlight. After a few minutes of this, Jay fast forwarded the video. "How long did the camera record like that?" Tim asked. "About an hour…. long enough for me to stop bleeding, anyway." he said, regretting his words instantly. Tim had winced at them. But Jay did not offer an apology, instead refocusing his attention on rewinding the footage a few minutes. He had went too far. Resuming it, Jay watched as he picked up the camera, cleaning the lense off with the corner of his shirt. He could see blood on his own fingers, which was slightly unnerving. Then the camera was shaking again, filming the ground as Jay turned and walked. "Hold on….did you follow me?" Tim asked, sounding shocked, "You followed me, in the mask, into the woods in the middle of the night after I had just attacked you? You have got to be kidding…I.." Tim trailed off, appearing too stunned at Jay's behaviour to continue speaking coherently. "It was the only plan I had at the time, okay?!" Jay said defensively. On camera, the occasional splatter of blood was visible in the light of the flashlight. This went on for awhile, nearly 20 minutes, until the movement stopped. Jay had stopped walking, and was apparently looking around, at a loss for where to go. He remembered that. Jay watched as the cameras view sank down, coming to rest in the leaf litter. This time, thankfully, it had a much better view of the surrounding woods. Until the light of the flashlight disappeared, anyway. The footage blacked out, only allowing for several vague, dark shapes to come through in the gloom. Jay sighed loudly, fast forwarding in the video, to a lighter time, just before sunrise. The figure of the hooded man appeared quite suddenly in the frame, sitting on the ground a few feet from Jay. Going back in the video, Jay could find no distinct entrance of his form in the dark. He had apparently been sitting there for hours. It was lighter now, much lighter, and the hooded man was very visible. He sat, knees drawn up slightly, his arms resting on them, apparently watching Jay as he slept. The video continued on like this, the hooded man moving very little. The video quite suddenly cut to black, signalling the end of the video. "Was he there when you woke up?" Tim asked, his tone bordering accusatory. "No!" Jay said quickly, "Don't you think that's something I would have mentioned?" Tim seemed satisfied with this response, nodding. "But why did he do that? Why did he do any of that?" Tim asked, making a sweeping hand gesture. Jay frowned. It was apparent to him that the hooded man was trying to help him, but was not quite the fan of Tim. Or was it Masky? Or both? "I'm sure he has some ulterior motive." Jay said, turning the camera off and moving from the bed, stretching as he crossed the room to the dresser.

"Did you know that there was a code at the beginning of the entry?" Tim asked, making Jay paused. It took him a moment to process what Tim was saying."You know, the video of me getting viciously beat up? That one?" Tim prompted, watching Jay stare at him blankly. That comment snapped him out of his fog. "Yes, yes! I know which video!" Jay said sharply, snatching the laptop from the bed and setting back down on the edge. Jay replayed the entry again, pausing the video carefully with each snippet of code. There were four lines of code in all, binary in the usual style. Scrawling these on a cheap hotel notepad from the bedside drawer, Jay set to work deciphering them. Tim made several comments that fell on deaf ears. Jay was much too focused on code breaking to pay any attention to him. Eventually, Tim grew tired of watching Jay furiously scribble down and then cross out various numbers and letters. Deciding his time would be better spent sleeping, Tim lay down on what had been Jay's bed, since Jay had so kindly occupied his bed, littering it with half of the pad of paper, which he had apparently torn out and wadded up in frustration. Turning his head to its less injured side, Tim closed his eyes and, eventually fell asleep. In no time, Jay was shaking him awake. "Got it!" he said triumphantly, waving a heavily inked piece of paper. Tim yawned, sitting up and stretching. "What does it say?" he mumbled, glancing at the clock. It was 2 in the morning… Tim couldn't remember the last time he had eaten. "It says 'Who do you trust?', 'You should fear', and 'Death awaits'." Jay said, his excited tone conflicting with the dark messages. "That's….concerning." Tim muttered, standing up and shuffling to his bag. "When was the last time you ate?" he asked Jay, who hesitated in his response. "Yesterday? Before I left for Rosswood.." Jay, truthfully, hadn't even missed food. But now that Tim mentioned it, he was hungry.. Tim fished a few dollars and several coins out of his wallet. "I'll be right back." he said, opening the door to the dark hall and shutting it behind him without asking Jay what he wanted from the vending machine in the first place. Of course, Jay trusted that Tim would get him something appealing. He knew him well enough now to know his favourite chips and candy. Jay sighed, looking down at the paper in his hands. Jay felt unsettled by this message, but he was unsure of why. What was the hooded man getting at? Who was he to attack Tim, and watch over Jay as he slept? Who was he? Clearing Tim's bed of the mess he had left, Jay dumped all of the paper wads into the trash. Who was behind the mask? Tim had removed it, and been beaten for it. Why? A plan was already forming in Jay's mind, sparked by his overwhelming desire to know the hooded man's identity. If he himself, with the help of Tim, could catch the hooded man unaware, the fight would be two against one…. Jay need only remove his mask.


	7. prepare the preparations

"Jay…. you do realize how insane that sounds, right?" Tim said, leaning forward on his elbows. He sat on the edge of the bed, facing Jay who sat just a few feet away in the ever present hotel armchair. "But it could work, right?" Jay prompted, shifting nervously. He had a good feeling about this plan. But the look of apprehension on Tim's face made it clear that he did not share the same feelings. "Do you even realize how much could go wrong?" Tim sputtered, sitting up, "There's so much room for error!" Jay frowned, shifting once more. He had come up with the plan rather quickly, and it had seemed foolproof in his mind. The hooded man had appeared when Tim had tried to get rid of his mask, and Jay had a vague idea of where he was. He was on foot, and Jay doubted he would be far from the Rosswood area. If Tim could make it seem like he was trying to dispose of his mask again, perhaps that could lure the hooded man out. Jay himself would wait in hiding somewhere, and attack the hooded man when he least expected it. He wouldn't be expecting both of them, and the fight would be two against one. Jay was certain that they could unmask him, perhaps even interrogate him. One of the biggest mysteries would be solved, and maybe, just maybe, it would be useful.

"Jay? Are you listening?" Tim shouted, sounding irritated. "Are you?!" Jay retorted, "This is the only plan we have right now, and if it works, we'll know who he is! We'll know! Don't you want to know, Tim?" Tim frowned again, "Of course I want to know. But there's a pretty big 'if' involved with this plan." "Do you have a better one? Because I would love to hear it." Jay spat, sitting up, his whole body language screaming for a fight. "No.." Tim mumbled, looking down. The tension in the room dissipated quickly. "I just….there's a lot of risk on my part, you know? I have to leave my mask…" Tim said quietly, watching the floor with a pained expression. Jay was still searching for the appropriate response when Tim spoke. "What if I leave it and that….that thing shows up?" Tim said, a little more loudly than before. "I'll be there." Jay said confidently, "You're not doing it alone. I'll be there. Two against one." Tim looked up at Jay skeptically, unsure of what to do. But there was something in the way that Jay looked when he spoke that made Tim sure that he wasn't lying. There were several moments of silence, in which Jay picked nervously at the empty chip bag in his lap. He was desperate for Tim to back him up in the plan. He was sure it was the right thing, the only thing, to do at this point. "Alright." Tim said suddenly, making Jay jump. "Alright, I'll do it. But if I die, you'll be there too, so..." Tim's tone was light hearted, and Jay snorted at the comment, "Don't worry, we'll go out swinging together."

It was 4 in the morning by the time the pair went to sleep, but neither of them stayed that way for very long. Jay awoke at eight, too full of nervous energy to sleep any longer. They had agreed on following through with the plan as soon as possible. That evening. In the soft light of the hotel room, Jay could see Tim stirring in the bed beside him. Certain that he had gone longer periods of time with less sleep, Jay sat up, swinging himself out of bed and collecting his laptop. "Jay?" Tim whispered, sounding sleepy. Maybe he hadn't been stirring after all…. "Go back to sleep." Jay said, waving at Tim dismissively with his free hand. "You too." Tim muttered, turning away from him. Jay climbed as quietly as he could back into his bed, arranging the pillows into a comfortable enough position to sit against. Turning the laptop on, Jay resisted the urge to tap his fingers on the keyboard. He was beginning to feel a little guilty for asking so much of Tim, and he felt the least he could do was let him sleep. After connecting to the hotel wifi once more, Jay found himself suddenly at a loss for why he had even turned his laptop on in the first place. After checking his email, which had received nothing from anyone he actually knew in almost a year, Jay found himself staring at a blank Google search bar. Deciding to make the most of his time, Jay went to Youtube, rewatching every totheark and entry that contained the hooded man. Jay looked for anything that could be of use to them later that evening. How he acted, how he moved… Jay replayed several of the videos, all on mute. Not that he needed the sound, the hooded man never talked. Could he talk? That thought crossed Jay's mind. Surely he could, and only elected to stay silent. Jay hoped so, anyway. Interrogating someone who could not speak would provide a challenge that Jay wasn't sure he was up to yet.

Tim awoke a little over an hour later, making a show of stretching and yawning. "Morning." Jay said simply, not looking up from his laptop. "What are you doing…?" Tim asked cautiously, already halfway through with making his bed. That was something that Jay had never really understood. Tim always made his own bed. "Do you think the hooded man can talk?" Jay asked, ignoring Tim's question. That one in particular had been bothering him, and he wanted to know Tim's opinion. "Yeah, I think he can." Tim said after a few moments, sitting down on his newly made bed. "I think that not speaking helps protect his identity, like the mask does." Jay took a few moments to process that. "He really is going to great lengths to hide who he is…" he said, closing his laptop. "Well, wouldn't you? Being hidden means you're safe." Tim said, looking pointedly at Jay. "Yeah, well….Alex knows who he is." Jay said, shrugging his shoulders, "He's as safe as we are from Alex. And I don't think even he is safe from the Operator." Tim frowned, running a hand through his hair, "Maybe not, but still. He doesn't speak and he wears the mask to protect himself. From us, apparently. But not for long." Jay nodded, smiling a little to himself, "I guess nobody can hide forever."


	8. action

It was a little after five o'clock in the evening when Jay closed the door of the hotel room behind him, balancing both his camera and flashlight in one hand as he did so. Tim had walked a little further down the hall, still adjusting his chest cam to a comfortable position for him. He held the mask at his side, gripping it tightly. "Ready?" Jay asked, knowing the answer. Tim nodded stiffly and with that, the two men set off together down the stairs and into the parking lot. "I'll drive." Jay said suddenly, breaking the silence between them. Tim, who had his hand on the driver side door, let go, holding one of his hands up in the air in a gesture of surrender. "Be my guest." he said, removing the keys from his pants pocket and tossing them to Jay in a single, fluid motion. They arced over the hood of the car and Jay caught them, moving to the drivers side. He wasn't quite sure why he wanted to drive, and Tim had to tell him several times to speed up or slow down on the much too short drive to Rosswood. "Maybe you should have driven…" Jay said as he pulled into the empty parking lot of Rosswood. "I'll drive us back." Tim said, climbing out of the car. Jay followed. All of the visiting families had gone home, although it was not dark enough yet to require the light of the streetlamps, Jay knew it would be soon enough. Glancing down to make sure Tim still carried the mask that was so crucial to their plan, Jay set off in the direction that they had come from the day before. Quickly, Tim took the lead, knowing the way better then Jay did. Jay was glad to let him, feeling anxious that he would get them lost in the dark.

The sun had almost set completely by the time Jay and Tim reached the abandoned building. Or rather, Jay thought, an abandoned building. Whether or not it was the building they were looking for was to be determined. Tim began to move stealthily towards the building, motioning for Jay to stay back. After a few tense moments in which Jay stood awkwardly, unsure of what to do with himself while Tim did the more dangerous work, Tim reappeared out of the ivy choked doorway, shaking his head. "Nothing in there." he said with a shrug. "Keep going then. He has to be around here somewhere." Jay said, already starting to walk around the building. "Are you sure…?" Tim questioned, walking quickly to catch up with Jay. Jay did not respond. The two walked in silence, focused on spotting anything dangerous or useful in the gathering darkness of the forest. "Is that something?" Tim asked quietly, stopping and pointing at a vague shape, obscured by dead bracken and the odd twilight lighting. "Maybe?" Jay said hesitantly, and lead the way to the shape. As the two approached, the shape of the large building became clear. Once more, Jay hung back quietly as Tim snuck up to the building. Peering in through the open window, full of jagged and broken glass, Tim remained motionless, looking into the building for several minutes before turning to Jay and nodding. Jay nodded back, stepping away as quietly as he could. Tim gave him a quick thumbs up, one hand hindered by the white mask. It stood out starkly white in the dark. And then Tim was turning, moving carefully around the building and out of Jay's sight. Jay glanced left and right, checking for movement before he began to move. He made his way cautiously around the building, positioning himself to have a better view of the buildings entrance. Crouching down, Jay hid himself as well as he could, between a thick tree and dead bush. It was the best cover he could get. Tim had apparently tossed the mask face down into the leaves several feet from the door to the building. He was, as planned, inside the building. Although Jay could not see him, he was certain that he would be able to hear a scuffle should one occur inside.

It was dark now. Jay had been crouching uncomfortably in the leaves for well over an hour. He could not see the mask anymore, and did not dare turn the flashlight on. It would be like a beacon in the dark for anyone walking past. Jay debated with himself over turning the camera on. He decided that he would if anything should happen. He didn't feel like getting a pitch black shot of the forest floor mixed with the sound of Rosswood at night. From somewhere nearby, Jay heard Tim cough, the sound partially muffled by what sounded like his jacket sleeve. There was movement in the dark. The rustle of leaves. It did not continue, but Jay tensed anyway, the camera and flashlight gripped tightly in his hands. It happened again several moments later, and Jay held his breath. The person was making no move to hide themselves now, moving freely in the leaves in a purposeful way. Into the building, the crunch of grit grinding itself against their shoes. Jay held his breath, nearly standing, waiting for the inevitable sounds of a scuffle. What was Tim waiting for? The metallic click of a bullet being loaded into a gun echoed off the sagging walls of the building and Jay couldn't breathe anymore. He was torn between running to help Tim and staying where he was. He was not particularly willing to run blindly into a gunfight. But Tim needed him…. Jay had not considered the possibility of the hooded man having a gun in his grand plan that was quickly falling down around his ears. There was movement once more, the same deliberate footsteps as before, exiting the building again. Jay exhaled slightly, fumbling with the camera as quietly as he could. Jay pressed his thumb over the light that signaled that it was on and recording, holding it firmly in the direction that the sound was coming from. The footsteps paused for a brief moment and resumed again. Jay realized much too late that they were headed in his direction. Briefly, he considered screaming for Tim. Why wasn't Tim doing anything? Where was he? The footsteps came closer still, making a beeline for the only way out Jay had. He realized much too late how vulnerable his chosen position had made him. Unless he could scramble over the dead bushes around him, he was boxed in by trees and foliage. Hand shaking slightly, Jay did the only thing he could do to defend himself from his crouched position. The other person was feet away now. Jay crouched, ready to spring, and pointed his flashlight in the general direction of where Jay assumed their face would be and flicked it on.

There was a brief moment of bewildered confusion where Jay squinted into the light, frozen in place by the figure before him. Tim, wearing the mask, stood, temporarily blinded by the sudden light of the flashlight. "Tim?" Jay questioned, still squinting. Something in his mind was telling him to run, but his feet weren't cooperating. His legs were asleep, perhaps, or maybe his mind wasn't in control anymore. Like a dream, Jay watched as Masky raised the gun, aiming it carefully at his chest. Jay stumbled backwards, into the bush just behind him. Twigs jabbed him in the back, snapping him back into reality just a split second before the retort of a gun registered in his ears. Jay felt himself propelled backwards, further into the bushes. He could feel blood gurgling up his throat and into his mouth, and he could smell it, mixed with the sharp smell of gunpowder. He tried to cough, the sound thick and wet, propelling a dark splash of blood into the bush below him, which was supporting his weight with difficulty. He was choking, attempting to inhale air. The blood made that an impossible task. Wild eyed, Jay searched the dark trees above him for something, anything. Tim. Where was he? The flashlight showed the area in front of him. Masky was gone. Jay would have felt the pain had he not lost consciousness.


	9. end

Tim awoke alone, lying face down in musty leaf litter. His first attempt at moving his head confirmed to him that he had been in that position for quite some time. At least a few hours. Squinting, Tim raised himself stiffly to a sitting position, brushing the bits of leaves that stuck to his cheek away and looking around. It was just after sunrise, perhaps 8 o'clock. Tim couldn't really tell. His mask lay a few feet away from him, next to something half buried under a larger leaf. Tim knew what it was, but his brain refused to accept it until he dragged himself over to the gun and picked it up. Tim felt as if the world had been knocked out from under him, and he would have fallen over had he not already been on his hands and knees. "JAY!" Tim shouted, scrambling to stand up. "JAY?" he repeated, taking an unsteady step forward. Tim realized for the first time that he had no idea where he was or how he had gotten there. He remembered waiting in the building for the hooded man, with Jay just outside. This was certainly not the building, it was a part of the forest Tim did not recognize at all. Tim was finding it hard to breath, the overwhelming feeling of panic seizing his limbs and rooting him to the spot. Looking around, Tim took several deep breaths. On a whim, he picked up the gun and slipped it into his pocket before going with his best guess of direction. The mask lay forgotten once more on the forest floor.

It took Tim nearly fifteen agonizing minutes before he reached a familiar landmark. The first building he and Jay and come to when they had walked into Rosswood the day before. Just incase, Tim entered the building, checking the dark corners for any evidence of Jay. Aside from a startled mourning dove, Tim found nothing. Carefully checking his direction, Tim walked as quickly as he could, stumbling several times over hidden tree roots and branches. He knew where Jay was, or where Jay had last been, and Tim knew that he needed to get there immediately. Infuriated by how slow his pace was, Tim stumbled once more into a hole, buried under the leaves. Crashing to the ground, Tim let himself crumple downwards, squeezing his eyes shut and regaining his breath. The weight of the gun in his pocket made him physically ill. Where had he found a gun? Why did he have it? Sucking in a ragged breath, Tim stood up and continued on at a similar pace, determined to get to Jay as soon as he could. The building was closer than Tim had expected. Slowing his pace down, Tim crept into the clearing. "Jay?" he asked, hardly daring to breathe incase he missed the answer. After it became apparent that there would be no response, Tim entered the abandoned building, trying to swallow his fear. It was as he had last seen it, empty aside from a single corner, in which the hooded man was apparently living out of. Several empty water bottles were scattered around a grungy mattress. There were pill bottles as well, a mixture of empty bottles and bottles with a few pills in them, all lined up in an orderly row at the end of the mattress. Jay was not there either. Tim resisted the urge to call out for him again, aware of where he was again. It was a dangerous thing to shout out in Rosswood.

Tim lingered in the doorway of the building, looking around the clearing. He wasn't exactly sure where Jay had been hiding in wait, but he assumed it would be on the edge of the clearing. That made the most sense to Tim, given Jay's intentions. Skirting the edge of the building, Tim began to circle the clearing, starting from his left and going right. There were many potential hiding places and none of them contained Jay, or any evidence that they had previously hosted him. As Tim made his way slowly around, he looked up, peering into a likely looking cluster of trees and bushes. Turning slightly, he noted the decent view of the buildings entrance that they would give. Tim had only walked a few feet forward when something came into view. Tim was sprinting to make up the distance. His feet skidded to an involuntary halt a few feet away from Jay, unable and unwilling to go any closer. Tim braced himself against the closest tree, a low moan escaping his mouth and ringing through the quiet morning. Jay lay, half fallen into the bush behind him. An overwhelming amount of blood, half dried, was caked in and around his mouth, still half open. His hands looked shrunken, splayed out across his chest, his long fingers noticeably lacking something to hold. The flashlight and camera lay, both still on, at Tim's feet, dropped by Jay as his final act. Tim's legs gave out on him, and he sank to the ground, squatting, unable to look away from Jay's body. The front of the dark green t-shirt Jay was wearing was soaked through with dark blood, having spread from the neat, small hole in his chest. The weight of the gun in Tim's pocket pulled him down to his knees. Bending over, Tim rested forearms on the ground, burying his head between them and drawing into himself. He was hyperventilating, unable to inhale or exhale properly. Tim wasn't sure if he cared about breathing anymore.

Everything smelled like blood, the stench acrid and hanging heavily in the air. Jay's blood. From the bullet wound in his chest. Tim moaned once more. Had anyone been close enough to hear it, they would have assumed it was an animal of some sort, in it's last stages of agony. Tim wasn't able to cry, not yet. The shock of the moment did not allow for tears yet. Drawing his head up, Tim looked up at Jay, deathly white, hardly resembling the man he had spoken to just hours before. What had be died for? Tim nearly screamed it, demanding an answer. Jay had died for nothing. He had shot him in the chest and for what? Nothing. Tim was somberly certain that he had killed Jay. He had shot his best friend because he wasn't able to control himself. After some time, Tim fumbled for and grabbed the camera. It was still running, it's tape nearly finished. Tim stopped it, replaying the footage it had recorded. Hours of the same shot, slowly growing darker and darker. Tim played back to the beginning of the tape, letting it start from there. Darkness, and the muffled breathing of Jay. Footsteps drew nearer and Jay's breathing sounded frightened. Tim willed Jay to run despite himself. But Jay had not run. Instead, Jay had turned on his flashlight, revealing Tim, face obscured by the mask, standing before the camera. "Tim?" Jay asked from behind the camera. Tim squeezed his eyes shut, allowing the tears to leak through. The sound of the gunshot exploded through the camera's audio. Tim shook with quiet sobs now, his eyes still squeezed shut. How could he look at anything at all? The camera's audio registered the sounds of Jay's coughing, the wet gasps for air. They continued on for several minutes before all went quiet. The camera continued to roll, playing the footage as Tim sobbed. He made no attempt at keeping quiet, hoping that something found him.

It was nearing noon when Tim finally gathered himself enough to stand. He did not look at Jay at first, unable to do so. Slowly, tentatively, Tim approached his still form. Using the damp corner of his jacket sleeve, Tim tried his best to gently wipe away the blood from Jay's face. Free of the blood, Jay looked like he was sleeping, his facial features relaxed, still. He looked like the Jay from the behind-the-scenes of Marble Hornets tapes, when college finals were the most frightening aspect of their lives. Before the Operator, before the tapes and violence. Before this. Tim's eyes drifted over Jay's chest and all at once the illusion of sleep was gone from Jay's body. He was dead, and the weight of that thought in Tim's mind nearly knocked him over again. But where he had been expecting sorrow, Tim felt a sudden rage. Why had he and Jay been out here at all? The hooded man. It was because of their plan to unmask the hooded man that Jay was dead. If it weren't for him, they would both be back at the hotel, talking and flipping through tv channels. Making the decision to come back for Jay, Tim marched out of the shelter of the trees and across the clearing, not bothering to look around first. Finding a dark corner of the abandoned building, Tim crouched in it, his only thoughts centered around unmasking the hooded man. If he did that, it meant that Jay hadn't died in vain.

Tim's anger had diminished somewhat by mid afternoon, and he found himself growing impatient. He was also finding fault in his hastily decided upon plan. It occurred to Tim that he had apparently learned nothing from his previous experience. His black eye and healing lip would have been a reminder that Tim wasn't strong enough to go up against the hooded man alone, had Tim cared about his own safety anymore. He decided that this time was different. This time, he was doing it for Jay. The gun, resting against his thigh in his pocket, reminded him of his advantage. It also made his stomach turn in equal measure. Tim wondered briefly how many people he was going to kill today. Perhaps if Alex walked through the door, he could dispatch of him as well.

If Tim had to guess, he would have said it was a little after four o'clock in the afternoon when the soft sounds of someone trying to remain quiet while walking amongst dead leaves reached his ears. Tim resumed his crouching position in the shadowy corner, just to the left of the door. Hesitantly, Tim removed the gun from his pocket and held it in his hand, not intending on using it. He clicked the safety off, trying to muffle the sound. The approaching person did not appear to hear it anyway. The hooded man entered the building without looking left or right. He apparently considered his location safe enough to forgo this precaution. Tim counted his steps into the building. One, two, three, four. Then he lunged, slamming into the other man from the side. Tim felt him stumble, but he quickly regained his balance, shaking Tim off in a heartbeat and spinning around to face him. Tim was already stepping back, the gun in his hand. Would he use it? Could he? The hooded man lunged at Tim, closing the small gap that had formed between him. Tim braced himself, reaching his left hand outwards to grab the others face, which appeared to be unprotected. Tim had always had the impression from movies he had watched that, in a moment of intense action, everything seemed to slow down. This did not happen. Everything happened at once, a blur of movement and sound. Tim yanked free the mask from the other man, hardly noticing that the gun had been wrested from his hand until he felt something press against his abdomen and heard the shot. It was deafening in the enclosed space. He was almost confused as he felt himself stumble backwards. For the first time, Tim looked into the eyes of the hooded man. But it wasn't the first time he had seen those eyes at all.

Tim sank to the ground, sitting himself down. He looked up at Brian, who was gaping at him, in more shock than he was. The gun clattered to the ground, Brian dropping it like it had burned him. Tim wanted to say something, but he wasn't sure he could articulate words around the pain. It was quite apparent to him that something had been hit, damaged internally. Tim would have liked to verbalize how ironic this situation was, that he had been shot with the same gun that he had shot Jay with. What perfect karma. Tim would have liked to do a lot of things, but instead he only looked up at Brian, trying to fight the pain off. Brian had not spoken either, and Tim wondered if he was even able to speak anymore, after so much silence. Quietly, he sank to his knees, kneeling in front of Tim. He looked like he was on the verge of tears. "Why?" Tim croaked, trying to ignore how his vision darkened with each rolling wave of pain. Brian seemed startled, and did not reply at first. When was the last time someone had talked to him? "I'm sorry." Brian whispered, his voice raspy and small. He didn't sound like Brian at all. "That didn't answer my question." Tim responded angrily, hands clutching at his stomach like it would help him somehow. Brian shook his head, looking behind himself briefly before focusing back on Tim. "I had to. You understand." he said, placing a hand on Tim's knee. Tim did not understand at all, but he did not feel like he could argue. "I'm sorry." Brian repeated. Tim nodded now, focusing on Brian's face now. Dark stubble crowded his chin and cheeks, threatening a beard, and his eyes were sunken and dark. His cheeks had a hollow, emaciated quality. Tim was reminded that he and Jay hadn't been the only one's affected by the Operator.

They sat that way, looking at one another for several minutes, not speaking, not needing to. Slowly, carefully, Tim lay down on his back, unable to tell if the pain increased or not from his change in position. His whole body felt like it was on fire. Brian moved into view briefly, sitting just behind Tim's head. Gingerly, he placed Tim's head in his lap, the only gesture of comfort that he seemed able to give to Tim. Tim was glad for it. It was what he needed. "Brian…?" Tim asked, his own voice sounding almost distant. "Yeah?" Brian whispered, barely audible. "I shot Jay." Tim whispered the words, unsure if he had actually said them or not. He hadn't heard them clearly himself. But just attempting to say the words made Tim feel better. Brian could find Jay now. Closing his eyes, Tim focused on Brian's fingers, which were running through the top of his head in a soothing rhythm.

Brian stroked Tim's hair, unsure of how to respond. Did Tim expect a response? He had known Jay, had liked him. But Tim had been his best friend. Always Tim. Whether Tim still considered him as such, Brian did not know. He doubted it. To all the world, it appeared that he had some sort of personal vendetta against Tim. He had singled him out in the totheark videos, called him a liar. He had even stolen his seizure medication. All of it had been for Tim, no matter how twisted it seemed. All of it had helped him in the long run, Brian was certain of it. He had to unite Tim and Jay, for both of their sakes. He had to remind them of Tim's proxy form. It appeared that he hadn't done such a good job with that as he had hoped. He had seen the mask on his way back, abandoned once again on the forest floor. Brian wondered briefly what would happen to it after its owner was gone. Returning his attention back to Tim, Brian watched as his eyes moved under their lids, trying valiantly to fight the pain and go to sleep. That was the body's natural reaction to extreme pain. Shutting down prevented suffering. Focusing on stroking his hair, Brian attempted to detach himself from the situation. It would not be long before he would find himself alone in the fight against the Operator and Alex Kralie. How long would it be before it was his turn to bleed out? Tim's breathing was becoming shallower with each passing moment, his breaths rattling in his throat. Brian continued to thumb through his hair, wondering if he could still feel it. Tim took exactly twenty seven more laboured breaths. Brian counted every one of them. The twenty eight breath never came. Carefully, ever so carefully, Brian slid Tim's still head out of his lap, laying it back on the floor. Brian stood up, looking down at himself. Tim's blood had soaked into his pants and shoes. Stooping down, Brian removed his mask from Tim's hand and put it back on. Quietly, he turned around and left the building, alone again.


End file.
